


Sympathetic Pain

by ScarletteStar1



Category: Homeland
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I have such a deeply rooted weakness for Mandy Patinkin, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oneshot, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 12:21:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20258008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: Saul goes straight to Carrie's house from the airport because he believes she has a right to be the first to know that she was right about Brody.Season two, episode two.





	Sympathetic Pain

She repeats it over and over until she cries. Her words become slurred and difficult, but he knows what she says.

He always knows.

He's always known.

It's like she's a part of him, but not exactly something physical. She's more of a sense, like balance or gravity; something he needs in order to move in the world and survive. The months they were apart while she was recovering he'd felt strange and almost empty. Off balance.

"Thank you," she says at last.

"You deserved to be the first to see it, Carrie," Saul says. He'd already said that. "I came straight from the airport." He'd already said that too. He doesn't really know what else to say now, so he echoes what she has said and whispers, "You were right." At these words, she collapses against his shoulder. He puts his arms around her and she feels so small. He's overwhelmed by how something so small can take up such an enormous space in his life.

"I missed you, Saul," she says with a shudder that ends in a sniffle. She rubs her face against his shirt like a child might. He feels the heat of her tears soaking through the material over his chest and anointing his skin beneath.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he says and drops his lips to the crown of her head. He doesn't kiss her, not exactly. He just allows his mouth to rest on top of her silky hair and inhales the complex incense of her shampoo and the uniquely private oil of her scalp beneath. She looks up at him, eyes wide, mouth turned down because she's still crying. "Hey, come on."

"I can't help it," she says and drags the sleeve of her pink bathrobe across her nose. "I had forgotten about Issa, about how Brody knew him. The ECT must have made me forget."

"I told you that stuff would mess up your brain," Saul grumbles.

"Yeah well that stuff also helped stabilize me and make my brain better. Less crazy."

"Hmph. I also told you that I happened to love your crazy brain. You remember that?"

"No. I don't think so. I'm sorry, Saul. I wish I did," Carrie says with a sad smile.

"It's okay," Saul sighs shakily. It's been a long day of travel and when her face crumples up in despair the way it is, it does something to a part of him. Maybe it causes his heart to crumple up in a sympathetic pain. Because he cares.

He always cares.

He's always cared.

Or maybe in some fucked up way they share the same mangled heart with the same erratic beat.

She finishes her cry and sits up. He shivers at the absence of her body against his and reaches instinctively for her hand. "You must be exhausted," she says. "Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

"Nah, I should go home and unpack. I'll have to get out to see Estes first thing tomorrow."

"Right," Carrie nods.

"This is huge, Carrie." He smiles, but instead of letting go of her hand and getting up from the couch, he leans back and rests his head against the cushion. Thoughts swarm in his brain and fill the hive of his mouth, begging for him to open it and set them free. But he bites and swallows them back and tries to remember a time, any other time, when he felt as connected and content with another human as he does right now, sitting on this couch at this point in time, with this particular tiny person. He opens his eyes to look up at her. She's pale. Her eyes are rimmed red from crying, but she looks relieved, almost cheerful. It makes him smile. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Better than I've been in a long time. You can go home. Get some sleep." Carrie pats his arm.

"Ahh, that's the thing," Saul breathes softly. "It seems I don't really want to move from your sofa. Is it okay if I stay a little bit?"

"Of course," Carrie says. She grabs the afghan from the back of the couch and drapes it over them, then snuggles into his side like a kitten, her head on his shoulder. Saul starts to snore lightly. Carrie takes his glasses off of his face and places them on the coffee table next to the laptop where she just had all of her wild theories validated and confirmed. Then she cuddles back against him. "Saul?" she whispers.

"Hmmm?" He is half asleep, or maybe mostly asleep, or maybe he is just hearing her voice through the gauzy layers of a dream.

"I happen to love your brain too," she says and he feels her find her way into the very same dream at the very same time as him. Because she's there.

She's always there.

With him.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments are so very welcome! I love chatting with fellow readers, writers, and fans so please feel free to say hi! This is my first Homeland fic. . . I've just started the show and am captivated by the dynamic b/w Carrie and Saul.


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